


if we were meant to be, we would've been by now

by Alphinia



Category: Outer Banks (TV)
Genre: 5 + 1, Angst, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Jealous JJ, Jiara July, Pining, a little bit of jealous kiara, but has a happy ending OBVIOUSLY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25614460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alphinia/pseuds/Alphinia
Summary: He wasn’t dumb or blind. No Pogue on Pogue macking was meant for him, and he didn’t need her to spell that out for him. Code for no JJ on Kie macking, because obviously, he was a dumbass with “I have a thing for you” tattooed on his forehead. And for good reason, she didn’t want him.He couldn’t blame her.____________________________OR five times JJ was jealous, and one time he didn't have to be[Jiara July- Day Five, 5+1]
Relationships: JJ/Kiara (Outer Banks)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 178
Collections: Jiara July Jubilee





	if we were meant to be, we would've been by now

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! This is likely my last entry for Jiara week (Unless I get a surge of inspiration), so I hope you enjoy! In the meantime, I'll probably be working on the second chapter of my Hogwarts AU.

JJ Maybank didn’t receive joy from a lot of things in life, but with those that he could, he absorbed them like the sun and did his best to magnify that joy tenfold. Or at least, to make it appear magnified and strong, like armor.

Parties were one of those things for him. Ever since parties had become a thing he did, people gravitated to him because he was constantly doing this stupid thing or that stupid thing. But people laughed, and people liked to laugh, especially girls. And JJ _really_ liked girls.

As soon as they hit thirteen, the parties also included the promise of booze, which JJ also happened to be a fan of.

All of this meant that it was basically complete bullshit that he was sat outside the house, no girl snuggled up to his side and a drained cup of bad alcohol in hand.

It was Kiara’s first party, and he was just doing his Poguely duty to look out for her. Normally, her parents refused to let her out of the house past nine, because they really fucking hated JJ, John B, and Pope. They didn’t trust them as far as they could throw them. They might even be right in most instances, but they’d never let anything bad happen to Kiara under their watch.

Kiara always said that her parents were just nervous about the whole boy girl thing, but JJ wasn’t blind. He saw the way they turned up their noses at most of the kids from the Cut, but instead of starting an argument with Kiara that she would no doubt win, he decided to enjoy the fact that she’d finally managed to slip out with them.

And then she’d slipped out down to the beach with Caleb Childers.

Kiara was a girl, but not one of _those_ girls. The ones that JJ made out with one night, got to third base with if he was extremely lucky, and then avoided for the rest of his life. No, she was his best friend, one of the people he stayed up ntil 3 am watching bad movies with and loitered in the Walmart parking lot with since there was not much else to do in their small ass town. He even listened to her boring rants about how his plastic fork was going to cause the Armageddon, or something.

True dedication, if you asked him.

Not to say that meant he didn’t think she was hot, because he totally did. But he thought she was hot in a respectful “look a lot but probably don’t touch because it might bite” kind of way.

Unfortunately, this closeness also meant he was always well aware of her crushes, even though she tried to hide them from the boys. Actually, she normally didn’t seem to get crushes, which was why JJ’s mind was blown when he realized she wanted to mack Caleb Fucking Childers.

The longer he sat there, looking all pathetic with his ass half in the sand and still no sign of Kiara returning, the more the hollow ache in his chest grew. He wondered if Kiara had macked Caleb Childers yet, and whether it was good. If that was why they had vanished for what seemed like an eternity.

He wondered if she would mack him again after tonight.

JJ really, really didn’t have the desire to sit there and ponder what his reaction meant. He was just going to lose his fucking mind, was what he was going to do.

Voices drifted through the night, from the beach, not the party raging in the house, and JJ strained his eyes. He could just make out two figures in the moonlight, not quite holding hands, but walking a lot closer than he particularly cared to see.

Kiara was looking down at the sand and _smiling_ , and JJ was sure he was going to hurl.

He was mildly surprised when the two figures cut apart, Kiara heading in his direction, Caleb heading for the house. He tensed, not really wanting her to see him there, but then he realized how fucking stupid that was, so he forced himself to lean back on his hands. He forced a lazy smirk on his face.

“Kie,” he said, when she was close, and she started, a hand flying to her chest. He snorted a laugh.

“Oh my god, JJ.” Kiara glared down at him, which she’d done a lot of since they became friends. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I think the more interesting question is,” JJ started, and he was proud of the way his voice came out. It was teasing and relaxed and nothing advertising how he was _feeling_. “Were you just getting your mack on?”

He wanted to know, but he also _really_ didn’t want to know. Shit.

The outline of her figure did something strange in the moonlight, almost like she was quivering. “Like that’s any of your business.”

But Kiara plopped down in the sand next to him anyway, her knees pulled to her chest. He could see that her brow was furrowed.

“I’m hurt, Kie. I thought friends always told friends everything? What happened to Pogues for life?”

“Feel free to stop telling me about all your escapades with girls. Please.”

Technically, JJ didn’t really talk about girls with Kiara, because it usually ended with her calling him a pig. What he did do was occasionally brag about his conquests to John B, and since Kiara was always hanging around, she happened to hear him. Totally not his fault.

“Keep pretending you aren’t curious,” JJ said. He really wished there was more cheap beer left in his cup, because he could use some.

The reprimanding look Kiara shot him was half-hearted at best.

Her hair was down, falling in soft curls that were blowing in a way too appealing manner in the wind off the sea. She was wearing one of what JJ dubbed her nice t-shirts, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she’d gotten ready with Caleb Childers in mind. If the other eighth grade guys were finally going to notice what JJ had started noticing a tragically long time ago.

Cheap beer. He needed it.

Kiara’s hands balled into fists on her knees, and she looked at him through her lashes. “Promise you won’t say anything?”

JJ was an asshole, but he liked to think he wasn’t a _total_ asshole. Kiara obviously needed someone to talk to, and he just happened to be sitting there. He nodded, a little apprehensive and positive he was about to hear something he didn’t really want to hear.

“Well, we kissed.” She hesitated over the word, and he could sense that she was blushing even though he couldn’t actually see it in the night. He tried not to grimace. “And he asked me to be his girlfriend.”

“He brought out the g word? Damn.”

Kiara must have been a really good kisser. And maybe Caleb had also realized her laugh was intoxicating, and that she was easily the coolest chick around.

Not that JJ spent time thinking about things like that, though. That was for the simps of the world, like John B.

“Anyway, I said no, and I think I hurt his feelings.”

Something a lot like relief washed over JJ. Something that he was bound and determined to ignore, because he was so not going there.

He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it, Kie. He’ll get over it.”

This guy didn’t even know Kiara. Not really. He’d certainly never noticed her before she grew out of her awkward, gangly, baggy-shorts wearing stage, and JJ could attest to that as a fact. He’d never come sniffing around before now.

“It’s not that deep, you know?” Kiara went on, holding up her hands the way she did when she was feeling really passionate about a topic. JJ nodded along with her. “If I’d rather hang out with you guys than some other guy, then why the hell do I want to give him the label boyfriend?”

JJ gave her a mock salute. “Hear, hear.”

“Thank you for being frickin’ normal.” She considered him, and her lips twitched. “Well, as normal as you can get anyway.”

“Ha ha.” JJ watched her, saw the way the crease still hadn’t completely disappeared from her brow. Kiara was a bleeding heart at the best of times, and he knew she was probably sitting there, imagining stupid Caleb’s heart broken into a thousand pieces because of her. If anything, Caleb’s heart was broken because he didn’t get a piece of ass, but JJ didn’t feel like explaining that to her.

He paused. “He was a shitty kisser, wasn’t he?”

Then Kiara was throwing sand at him, denying his accusation. But she was laughing, and that was all he really cared about. If he maybe felt little lighter too, it was only an added benefit.

When Caleb Childers came to school the next week and started bitching to everyone about how Kiara was a tease, but it didn’t really matter because she was a bad kisser anyway, JJ really couldn’t be held responsible for the black eye that popped up on his face. Standing back, useless and watching Kiara sniffle while John B tried to hug the hurt out of her just didn’t cut it for him.

What could he say? He was a man of action.

Kiara slammed her tray down at lunch on Tuesday, while he was just innocently trying to enjoy his shitty school pizza. If he got a thrill out of the fact that Caleb Childers was afraid to make eye contact with him across the cafeteria? Oh well.

“JJ,” she threatened, because of course she did. “Did you get into a fight with Caleb?”

“Define _fight_.”

“JJ.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that I socked him in the face and he cried like a little p-wuss.” He stopped himself from using the word pussy, because he was sure it would earn him a knock on the head from Kiara. And Caleb hadn’t in fact cried, but he had cowered like the little bitch he was. JJ would gladly punch him again, if she wanted.

Her expression was flat. “That was really stupid.”

“The guy is just a fucking idiot, Kiara, really,” he argued, and he noticed that she didn’t try to challenge that statement. He kicked at her foot under the table, shooting her a grin. ”And I don’t believe you’d be a shitty kisser, like, at all.”

An amused smile reluctantly surfaced on Kiara’s face, only to darken almost at once. “I’m glad you didn’t get into trouble because of that asshole. He’s not worth it.”

Kiara was, though. JJ thought for a second about telling her that, but he’d pretty much rather boil himself alive in lava.

“Felt pretty good to me,” he said instead. She rolled her eyes. A smile was still stretched across her face, so it seemed a lot like a victory.

JJ knew the moment would end as soon as John B or Pope meandered in, but he was prepared to enjoy it while it lasted.

“Never get into a fight on my account again, if you don’t mind,” Kiara ordered. He didn’t miss the fact that she made a point to share the brownies she’d packed with him, or the way she couldn’t quite hold in her smirk when Caleb skittered by, head ducked.

A victory indeed.

* * *

JJ had always known somewhere in the back of his mind that Kiara would wake up one day and realize she was too good to be slumming it with the Pogues. But he’d let himself fall victim to her sweet smiles, soft hands and heart too big for her own good. And it wasn’t that he was blindsided when she ditched them at the start of high school, necessarily.

He just didn’t expect it to hurt so fucking much.

It started small. Kiara trying not to cry when she informed them that her parents were making her attend the Kook academy starting next fall, because they could finally afford it with the success of the Wreck. John B had thrown an arm around her shoulders, Pope had informed her that technically, she could still hang out with them just as much after school, and JJ had given her some old Hershey’s Kisses he dug out from the bottom of his bag.

No longer seeing her at school slowly transformed into unanswered texts, plans cancelled at the last minute, and an empty spot on the couch next to JJ (And in his heart, if he had a functioning one). John B and Pope had remained in denial for longer than JJ had.

But JJ? His self-preservation instincts had kicked in, and he’d stopped talking to Kiara, stopped inviting her to things long before she stopped showing up.

The satisfaction when he got to tell John B and Pope, “I told you so”, a blunt between his fingers, was empty.

JJ was working his shift at the country club (which he fucking hated, by the way) one Saturday afternoon late in their freshmen year when he saw Kiara up close and personal for the first time in weeks.

She looked different. Her eyes were darker and brighter at the same time, like she’d put something on them, and the curls that he’d loved so much were smoothed out into a style that made her look like an empty shell of his former best friend. It was a type of effort that was far too much for hanging out on the ocean like she always used to love doing.

Her clothes changed too, which was something he’d noticed gradually. Gone were the baggy t-shirts and grass-stained jean shorts. Instead, she shimmied around in hot little crop tops that left people in her tracks drooling and JJ fuming. Today was no exception.

He hated himself for letting the sight of her knock the wind out of him. Hated her for not even noticing that he was there.

She was perched at one of their tables, not in the corner like the Pogues preferred, but in the center of the room. Sarah Cameron, Kook princess extraordinaire, sat across from her. The two of them had been prancing around together for months, acting like they owned the island. Kiara hadn’t just sunk into the Kooks; she’d flown straight to the top of the barrel.

To make matters even worse, Rafe Cameron was beside her, popped fucking collar and all.

Kiara was laughing, and wow, JJ had almost forgotten how her laugh could make the whole room light up. He scowled into his dishrag, and scowled even more when his boss plopped a tray with three cups of ice cream in front of him.

His gaze landed on the mint chocolate chip, and he didn’t have to be told where it was going.

“Take this to table three,” Ronnie wheezed. “I need a smoke.”

JJ thought about ripping off his nametag and declaring that no way in hell would he deliver ice cream to the three worst people in the OBX. He was a fucking busboy, and this wasn’t in his job description. Maybe he’d top things off by hurdling the ice cream right at Rafe Cameron’s over gelled head.

Unfortunately, the job paid well, and if he was lucky, some of the older Kooks slipped ridiculous tips into his hand on busy days. And unlike the kids on Figure Eight, JJ didn’t always know if there would be food waiting on him at home if he didn’t have cash to spot himself a Big Mac if he needed it. He couldn’t afford to bail, no matter how much he wanted to.

JJ approached the table, making a point not to look in Kiara’s vicinity. The conversation hushed, and he felt Kiara’s eyes burning holes into the side of his face, practically begging him to notice her.

He gave a tight smile, ignoring her. “Ice cream. Here you go.”

He hated this shit. Hated feeling like a servant, like he was below a couple of snobs just because they happened to be born into money.

JJ’s plan was to get out of there as quickly as possible, before his quick tongue spit something that the Camerons used Daddy’s influenced to get him fired for. Rafe Cameron, however, was a dick of the highest degree, and could never miss a chance to make a Pogue’s life hell.

“Wait, Wait. How you doing…” Rafe made a show of squinting at his nametag. “JJ?

JJ’s jaw clenched. “Fan fucking tastic. Have a nice day.”

Rafe’s eyes flitted from Kiara to JJ. He leaned to the side, so his arm brushed Kiara’s, and his mouth twisted into a smirk. JJ wanted to knock it right off his face.

“How about a few of those napkins, huh?”

JJ bent under the table, ignoring the pang he felt when he noticed Rafe’s knee was touching Kiara’s, and then popped back up. He pretended to be surprised. “I don’t know, man. Looks like you’ve got legs, to me.”

“Rafe, we’re fine,” Sarah interjected. The pad of her thumb had paused scrolling through her shiny new iphone, and she was glaring at her brother.

JJ couldn’t help himself any longer. He chanced a glance at Kiara and found her fixated on her lap. Her shoulders were tucked in, and she looked very small.

He wondered if she was okay, and then wanted to bash his head against the table for even thinking that. Why was it so hard to not care?

“Geez, the service around here’s gone to shit,” Rafe said, in his best loud, obnoxious kook voice. This was not to be confused with his general douchebag voice, or his little bitch voice.

JJ’s fist clenched at his side as he walked away, and he tried very hard not to think about that voice talking to Kiara. Making her laugh, talking about his day with her.

He quit that afternoon, just so Rafe couldn’t have the pleasure of putting a bad word in.

* * *

Sarah Cameron’s sixteenth birthday party, the self-proclaimed party of the century, played out over snapchat, one familiar face conspicuously missing. It was a fact that JJ tried and failed not to notice, because he still couldn’t help but look for her, even after she’d left them in the dust.

Kiara managed to worm her way back in with the Pogues before sophomore year was even halfway through.

She came back to them the same old Kie they loved, but like someone had taken a marker and redrawn certain parts of her. Her clothes were smaller, curves that definitely hadn’t been there before had somehow popped up, and she’d learned how to flash a seductive smile over countertops at people she wanted something from. A skill she’d no doubt picked up from her time with Sarah Cameron, whose name was now poison on Kiara’s lips.

Either way, Kiara Carrera was officially smokin’.

Not to say that she hadn’t always been pretty, because she had. JJ had never exactly told her this, but even before, she was one of the prettiest girls he knew, what with her warm brown eyes and caramel skin.

He coped with her transformation by telling her exactly how hot she was all the time.

JJ had long since lost his sense of embarrassment when it came to the physical aspects of girls. He wasn’t good at much, but he took to sex like he took to most physical activities; like a fish to water. Kiara seemed to think nothing of it when he slipped seamlessly into hitting on her, matching the role she knew him to have. It certainly worked better than Pope’s method of simply trying not to have a fucking heart attack when she got too close.

And well, if JJ sometimes thought about shit like holding her hand, too, then at least she wasn’t aware of that part.

Unfortunately, the Pogues weren’t the only ones who took notice of Kiara’s transformation.

Most of the kids from the island already realized she wasn’t going to give them the time of day, and even when she did, her interests never seemed to last longer than a week or so. If she didn’t tire of them, they couldn’t tolerate her continuously choosing three other guys over them. It was an arrangement JJ wasn’t mad at, like at all.

But the Tourons never learned. They flocked to her like gulls, and even those who didn’t allowed their eyes to follow the sway of her hips as she moved to and from the keg at the Boneyard. Occasionally, she entertained one of them, like tonight, when she was grinding her hips against some loser from God knows where.

JJ didn’t mean to watch her. Not really. But John B had disappeared with some girl, Pope had ran into a few of his mathlete friends, and JJ was currently sporting a kaleidoscope of purple and blue on his abdomen that wouldn’t be worth explaining to a hookup for the night.

So he sat there, draining a few too many cups of beer and taking in the rhythmic movement of Kiara swaying back and forth. The alcohol dulled the spike of anger when another guy’s hands brushed too close to her ass or Kiara looked at one of the Tourons a certain way. It was better for him, really.

Considering the way his eyes were glued to her, it was a surprise that he didn’t notice her gravitate towards his log.

“JJ.” Kiara sniffed the air. Her hair was free, twisting back into the spirals he really would just love to bunch up in his fingers. Her face twisted up. “Are you hammered, bro?”

His answering laugh came out a little too loud. “It’s a party, Kie.”

Her hands had drifted to her hips, her favorite mother Kie pose. The image made him chuckle again. Her head tilted, watching him.

To his surprise, she reached down and latched her fingers around his arm. Her skin was warm against his, and it tingled a little too much for his liking. He was supposed to be a sex god, or something, and here he was, borderline flustered over completely E for everyone rated skin on skin.

“Come dance with me,” Kiara said. JJ blinked up at her. He was drunk off his ass, but was he drunk enough to have hallucinations?

She asked him to dance with her rather frequently. In fact, she made a habit of beckoning any of the Pogues towards her while she swayed on the makeshift dance floor, especially if she didn’t feel like being hounded too much that night.

He just wasn’t expecting it when she looked so unimpressed by how wasted he was, especially when she had seemed rather into that dark haired Touron from earlier.

“Some guy keeps trying to mack me, and he can’t take a hint,” she explained, lips pursed.

“Just a typical Saturday, being too hot for your own good.” JJ moved to stand up, staggering only once. Considering how many beers he had had, he thought he was holding his alcohol pretty impressively.

“Uh uh,” Kiara hissed, wagging her finger at the foot of the log he’d been seated on. His red solo cup was resting there, abandoned in the sand. “Put that where it goes, or it’s going to end up in the ocean.”

“Oh my God,” he complained. “Yes, Mother Teresa.”

“I’m serious. I’m not being friends with a sea turtle killer.”

Her glare was sharp, and it didn’t ebb until he obediently dropped his cup into the recyclable bag she’d brought for just that purpose. He noticed there were only two other losers’ cups in the bag, and he thought about pointing it out to her, but then her hand was in his, pulling him into the crowd of dancers.

Her back pressed to his chest, and she didn’t protest when his bold, drunken hands pulled her probably a bit closer than what he normally would have. If he didn’t know any better, he could’ve sworn she inched a little closer. He caught a whiff of her conditioner, and god, did it smell fucking good.

“What?” It came out confused, and a little like a laugh. Shit. He hadn’t realized he’d said that out loud.

Her eyebrows scrunched up cutely as she peered up at him, but she didn’t look mad. There was a moment of consideration, and then her hand was in his to tug him to the edge of the crowd.

“So you’re no worried about your little wannabe macker anymore?” he asked.

They were still standing perhaps a little closer than what they normally did, even at max flirting, and JJ really didn’t know what was going on. He knew he was stupid, but he wasn’t completely oblivious, either. He thought.

Kiara said, “I think he’s gone.”

Her laugh had been in his ear seconds ago, more intoxicating than any amount of beer, and his heart was still swelled with something that felt dangerously like hope. If the alcohol wasn’t fogging his brain, he never would’ve had the courage to say what came next.

JJ leaned in closer, where their breath was already mingling. If he was sober, he probably could’ve counted the strands in her eyes, or some soppy shit like that. “You could like, totally mack me instead.”

Kiara reply was a shove to the chest, delayed a few seconds from what could’ve been either shock or disgust. He stumbled back, taking in her wide, panicked eyes and hair frizzing up around her face like a halo.

“”JJ, what—“ She struggled to find the words as much as he dreaded hearing them.

_You’re like a brother to me, JJ._

_We’d never work, JJ._

_You’re not up to my standards, JJ._

What came out of her mouth was a whole lot more bizarre, and definitely a more roundabout way of rejecting him than necessary. ”No Pogue on Pogue macking. You know that,” she said.

Actually, he’d never heard that rule before. He didn’t tell her that though, too keen on trying to suck the sting out of her blatant rejection. It wasn’t that he didn’t _know,_ but now he really knew, and that just sort of sucked.

He passed it off with an easy laugh, even though there was not a single bone in his body that thought it was funny. “Suit yourself.”

That was the night that JJ realized, with no doubt whatsoever, that the door to a romance between him and Kiara? It was definitely locked. Locked tighter than a prison cell.

* * *

It was ironic, JJ thought, how much Kiara began to harp on about the no Pogues macking on other Pogues rule. She spoke about it like something that had always been there, and maybe it _had_ been a sort of unspoken rule that he was too much of a dumbass to notice. He still couldn’t help but be sure that the constant reminder was for his benefit.

She didn’t have to worry. Hell would freeze over before he tried to kiss her again.

He was also fairly certain she hadn’t thought the rule over before making it. Either that, or she hadn’t realized she wanted to bang John B’s brains out before the words had left her lips, because JJ knew she did, just as surely as the shriveled up, repressed thing he himself felt for Kiara wasn’t going away any time soon.

Okay, so in reality, there was probably something a lot sappier than that going on with Kiara and John B, but if JJ wanted to maintain what little sanity he had left, he couldn’t spend too much time thinking about it.

Naturally, he thought about it all the time, unable to ignore the subtleties in the way she treated him.

Kiara didn’t flirt with John B the way she flirted with JJ. With JJ, it was all teasingly seductive smiles, quick quips, and twisting her hips a little closer than just friends did when they were dancing at the Boneyard. It was all a game between them, at least on her end.

It was different with John B. Kiara trailed after him like a stubborn mother hen from the second she returned to the Pogues, making sure he _ate dinner_ and shit. She hugged him goodbye and hugged him hello, whereas she greeted Pope with a Pogue handshake and JJ with a middle finger. He might get a ruffle of his hair, if he was extremely lucky.

“You guys are so _stupid_.” Kiara hadn’t let up on them since they’d returned to the Chateau, and Pope wasn’t far behind, sending them ‘I told you so’ looks from behind Kiara’s more intimidating figure. She was scowling as she pushed Advil into John B’s hand, but JJ didn’t miss the way her other fingers still pressed against his back, like she was afraid he’d fall over if she let him go.

Ever since Big John’s disappearance, John B was coping with all the rational of someone who’d lost the most important thing in his life but refused to grieve. Thus, their enormous-hearted friend had a simmering ball of emotion he chose to channel into rage rather than loss, and JJ had found himself the one breaking up fights more often than he started them in recent months.

When his best friend was involved, that didn’t mean he hesitated to finish things, though.

“Relax, Kie. That douche was asking for it,” JJ said. JJ had immediately segregated himself onto the couch upon arrival. He didn’t bother to argue that he wasn’t the one who started the fight this time, because Kiara always seemed to find time to glower at him regardless. “And I mean, at least we didn’t lose.”

John B mumbled something under his breath, clutching his eye. He threw a decent punch and could hold his own in a fight, but he still wasn’t accustomed to nursing his injuries afterwards. Not like JJ was. The sting in his jaw was nothing more than a dull throb in the back of his mind, nothing compared to the pain he’d felt before.

Kiara snapped another threatening look at him. “Come on,” she said to John B, still irritated, but a little softer as she guided him towards his bedroom. The door clicked shut, and JJ’s chest clenched as he stared after them.

“Great job,” Pope chided, and JJ shrugged.

“Won’t catch me apologizing for helping a brother out.”

“Well good luck with that.” Pope shook his head, gathering his things. “I’m heading out. Got an essay to write.”

JJ cocked his head, considering. “Hm. Can’t remember the last time I wrote an essay.”

“Can’t remember the last time you came to class,” Pope mumbled. He glanced at John B’s bedroom door, his expression strangely sullen. “See you later, man.”

With Pope’s departure, the Chateau grew silent. There wasn’t a hint of a sound from John B’s room, and JJ found himself gripping the remote a little too tightly. Kiara had fallen asleep in bed with all the boys at some point or another, but if she stayed in John B’s room, he figured it wouldn’t be long until they made it official. Became a happy couple and shit.

JJ wasn’t sure what made his stomach twist more; the fact that Kiara was flirting up a whole ass storm with John B, or the fact that he didn’t even seem to notice.

Shit. He was in entirely too deep.

The cable was busted again, so JJ flicked on the old VHS player. One of Pope’s ancient Star Wars movies happened to be inserted, so JJ leaned back on the couch, casually taking a draw from his juul. He just needed some background noise.

“Did Pope leave?”

JJ started a little at the sound of Kiara’s voice. He hadn’t even noticed she’d returned to the living room, but sure enough, she was peering around, eyes peeled for Pope. She’d changed into a big, fluffy hoody that JJ was fairly sure belonged to him. Or maybe it belonged to John B at one point, but he’d swiped it.

Either way, it drowned her, hanging almost to her knees, and she looked enticing as hell. He thought about telling her that, but his mood was a little sour for playful flirting.

“Yeah. School shit.”

“Ah. John B’s asleep.” She glanced at the TV, where Princess Leia happened to be prancing around in a metal bikini. “Oh my God. Seriously? This shit?”

“Don’t act like you don’t think Han Solo is sexy.”

Because they were them, there was no awkward tension after her rebuttal of him, no hard feelings. JJ knew where he stood, and he knew it even more sober. He wasn’t going to let his idiotic impulses rob him of Kiara’s friendship (He still didn’t know why she even bothered to give him that), so he was a master at pretending nothing had happened whatsoever.

“You know what isn’t sexy? Objectifying women,” Kiara said, but she was sticking her head into John B’s barren cabinets, searching for something. Her face split into a grin when she stumbled upon an old bag of popcorn, and JJ warmed. So she was planning on staying.

She leaned against the counter, so she had full view of the movie while also being able to keep watch on her popcorn. She froze. “Oh my God, JJ.”

“What?” he asked, but she was upon him, fingers skirting across the bottom of his jaw so she could get a better look. His skin prickled.

Kiara must’ve noticed his eyes on her, because she yanked her hand back. She fiddled with her fingers, frowning. “That looks kind of bad. We should get some ice on it—“

“No, I don’t need ice, it’s not even that bad—“

He cut himself off, watching in something like amazement as she dug around in the freezer, coming out with a bag of old peas. She tossed it at him, and he caught it soundly.

“Put it on there. It’ll help the swelling,” she ordered.

JJ had never really had anyone do this. Try to take care of him.

He supposed it didn’t generally help that he rebelled against it immediately almost any time Kiara entertained it. John B and Pope ate it up, leaning into her soft touches and suggestions, but JJ didn’t have it in him. If she told him he was going to get sick, he’d stay in the cold ocean longer. If she told him he was going to sprain an ankle, he jumped off the roof anyway.

He feigned annoyance, but slapped the peas against his jaw. She had no idea this shit was nothing compared to what was already on his torso right that very second. But she was smiling, and she seemed like she was eager to spend time with him at the moment, so he humored her.

Kiara threw herself on the other end of the couch, bowl of popcorn in hand. There was a flash of disappointment that she was so far away, but then she was throwing her feet across his lap, throwing him a grin.

“Disgusting,” JJ said, but he allowed his free hand to fall to her ankles. He felt her gaze on him and wondered for a moment if he’d overstepped. However, Kiara just smiled and sunk further into the couch cushions, her attention returning to the television.

This. This right here was what he couldn’t afford to lose. Kiara was a ray of light in his life, and he’d never chance snuffing it out.

* * *

JJ didn’t know why he didn’t see Pope coming.

The golden boy with the girl woven from waves and happiness and sunsets. Everyone got what they deserved sooner or later, and this? This was a prime example of that.

When they thought John B was dead, the memory of seeing Kiara lean in and kiss Pope on a dock while he was _right fucking there_ was something very low on the totem pole of JJ’s worries from the worst day of his life. But the second they got the postcard from the Bahamas signed in his best friend’s handwriting, he was no longer consumed in all encompassing grief.

He had time to think about other things. Like how he was definitely going to get his ass beat for stealing the Phantom once his dad realized it was missing, and how he was going to have to spend the foreseeable future seeing his best friends mack each other senseless.

It sucked ass that he was pathetically in love with one of them. He winced, even at just the thought of it.

JJ and the L word had a complicated relationship. His mom had told him she loved him, but then she’d headed for the hills and left him in the dust with a father who beat the shit out of him. He could count on the fingers of one hand how many times his dad said it, and even then it was only when he was severely under the influence. JJ said it to his friends (his real family) in passing; “Don’t you love me, Kie?” with a pouty lip, or “Love you guys too,” when the boys were talking shit. Never in a serious way, to put himself out there. He both craved it and cringed just thinking about it.

But truthfully? He wasn’t sure his bruised and battered heart was even capable of love, and certainly not the kind that someone like Kiara deserved.

Or wanted.

They were at Heyward’s about three weeks after the hunt for gold had ended in disaster. Pope was manning the counter while JJ browsed the selection of baits. Kiara had suggested they go fishing, even though he couldn’t for one second remember one time they’d gone with just the two of them. Kiara didn’t care much for it herself, and with Pope on borderline lockdown and John B still lying low in another country, it was really only for his benefit.

He couldn’t help his glance up, where Kiara was leaned up against a stool, a careful distance between her and Pope. Pope was avoiding her eye contact, and JJ didn’t know whether it was for his benefit or whether they were just sickeningly adorable, but damn, the jumpiness between the two of the in his presence was beginning to grate on his nerves.

He dropped his chosen bait into Pope’s hands and said, “We’ll take this. I need to smoke before we go.”

JJ ducked outside, to let them have their _moment_ or whatever without a peeping Tom present. He pretended not to notice the way Kiara’s eyes followed him, questioning. He hated himself, wanted to claw the resentment out of his heart, because she deserved this. Pope deserved this.

But he was only human, and that didn’t mean he was ready to fucking see it. Them inevitably acting like a couple, with subtle touches and whispers about things he wouldn’t have heard of because he wasn’t there when they discussed it. As long as they were both happy, he was happy, but he was only so evolved.

He breathed in the hit off his blunt gratefully, feeling the effects relax his entire body almost at once.

It didn’t take long for Kiara to materialize, and JJ tried not to wonder whether they had skipped a goodbye kiss. He huffed out a ring of smoke.

“Ready to go?”

Her face was flushed, which was something he really wished he didn’t notice. She nodded. “Yeah.”

JJ grabbed his stolen pole and beat up tackle box, and they padded down the boardwalk silently. They weren’t going far, just to a nearby dock with a bit more space and less boat traffic than Heyward’s.

Kiara was biting her lip at his side, and JJ got the distinct impression that she was trying to figure out how to say something. He didn’t like that. He didn’t like it at all.

“So…. I don’t know if you know, but me and Pope—“

“I know,” he said, too quickly.

JJ was trying, but he wasn’t a _saint,_ for Christ’s sake. He couldn’t listen to her voice awkwardly fumble through explaining her relationship with Pope to him, because they both knew he had a thing for her and that made her think she owed him an explanation. He didn’t want that memory in his brain.

And hadn’t she even remembered he was there when she planted a big one on Pope? It stung, almost more than the situation to begin with.

“Oh.” Kiara looked up, and her expression was still clouded. Her eyes darted over his face, and he hoped his misery wasn’t written all over it. He really did. “I wasn’t sure. But, like—“

‘This spot should be good,” he said. He’d caught everything off this dock at some point, and although he wasn’t really excited for fishing at the moment, he could use _something_. The dice was never in his favor, but he figured the universe could throw something as insignificant as a decent catch his way.

Kiara was still frowning at him. Ready to end the conversation once and for all, JJ took one last draw off his blunt and then stubbed it out with the toe of his boot. “Seriously. As long as you two are cool, I’m cool. As a cucumber.”

“Okay.” She swung her feet off the dock, gazing into the murky water. “We are. Cool.”

JJ tied his line around his hook of choice. If his hands were free, he would’ve adjusted the red cap on his head for something to do. “ _Cool_.”

And he would be, eventually. Really. As long as Pope and Kiara made each other happy, he knew he could find it in him to be happy for them.

He wasn’t dumb or blind. No Pogue on Pogue macking was meant for him, and he didn’t need her to spell that out for him. Code for no JJ on Kie macking, because obviously, he was a dumbass with “I have a thing for you” tattooed on his forehead. And for good reason, she didn’t want him.

He couldn’t blame her.

What JJ couldn’t wrap his mind around was why the hell Kiara was sticking to his side like glue recently. She was always wanting to go surfing with him, or to go smoke a blunt at Rixon’s Cove, or to stay late at the Chateau watching bad sitcom reruns.

He reckoned she felt sorry for him after his breakdown in the hot tub, or maybe she was just worried about him in that “human rights” kind of way she had. He didn’t miss the flash of concern in her gaze when they met up nowadays, like she was double-checking to make sure his skin was devoid of bruises. Like he was something fragile. And she’d been there when they were convinced John B was dead, to pull him out of every day drunk mess and to keep him from getting himself killed by going straight after Rafe.

It made sense at first, that he was the lost cause she needed to focus on to cope with John B’s death. He was maybe even a little okay with that truth, if it helped her get out of bed in the morning.

But now? Didn’t new couples have a honeymoon period, or some shit? He knew Pope was on lockdown, but Kiara was definitely Heyward’s favorite. She could probably weasel more time out of him a hell of a lot easier than JJ could. 

A few days later, JJ had officially been living at the Chateau for almost a month, and he really fucking needed some clothes. He wasn’t opposed to wearing the same outfits over and over, but he was getting sick of all the laundry he had to do. Most of his shirts had also seen better days, the rips and tears competing with the actual fabric for space.

He’d been careful, extremely careful about run-ins with his dad since they’d stolen the Phantom. Now that it was blown to smithereens somewhere in the middle of the ocean, he really wasn’t eager for the day Luke discovered it was missing, and he sure as hell didn’t want it to be when he was in a house alone with him.

Pope and Kiara would never peacefully let him go. They’d probably try to give him charity or some shit instead, so the obvious solution was not to tell them.

JJ was fairly sure he could safely get in and out of his house without his dad knowing if he timed it right. His phone dinged when he came to a stop a few driveways down from his house. It had been beeping incessantly the entire ride over, so he yanked it out just to make sure someone wasn’t dying or some shit.

**Kie [5:38 pm]:** _movie at John B’s tonight when I get off? :)_

God, she’d still been smothering him lately. He couldn’t remember the last day they’d gone without seeing each other, which he’d normally like. Now, it really wasn’t doing his issue any favors.

He shoved his phone back in his pocket, ignoring the things her added smiley face did to his stomach. It was either that, or the vicinity to his house. Probably both.

It was almost anticlimactic, JJ thought, returning to the house. His dad’s beat up old Ford was nowhere to be seen. The same dirty dishes were in the sink, and the same beer bottles were strewn all about the living room, only multiplied in number without JJ there to pick them up.

He resisted the urge to tidy up, to at least spray some fucking air freshener, but he didn’t need his dad to notice he’d been home. Instead, he scurried to his room, habitually walking on the floorboards that didn’t creak and keeping his ears perked, just in case he heard the roar of an engine outside.

There was none.

He arrived back at the Chateau with his ratty old backpack teeming with fresh clothes and an empty feeling in his bones. He cracked open a can of beer, propping his feet up on the coffee table, and realized this empty house was probably a lot like what his future was going to look like.

Alone.

The door slammed, and JJ jumped, nearly spilling his beer. The racing of his heart slowed when he looked up and saw Kiara’s figure looming above him. A long breath slipped through her lips when she saw him.

“Oh my fucking _God,_ JJ.”

JJ didn’t know what was going on, but he really hoped it wasn’t because he forgot to text her back. He tipped his beer at her. “Hello, Kie. Still up for a movie?

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she spat.

If he were Pope or John B, this was the point when he probably would’ve stopped and asked her if she was okay. But he was still on edge from going to his house, and he was JJ, so he couldn’t help but bristle.

“Yes Kiara, I am having a nice day. Thanks for asking.”

“This isn’t funny, JJ.” He was shocked to realize that her eyes were watery, like she was so angry she could cry. Either that, or she’d previously been crying. “Why would you go to your—to your dad’s house?”

“What are you, fucking all seeing? Some mumbo jumbo shit?”

Kiara gestured wildly with her phone, like that was all the answer he needed. She looked seconds away from stomping her foot, and if the circumstances were better, he might even pay to see it. “You didn’t answer your text, so I checked your location.”

“You stalked me on Find My friends?” He let out a disbelieving laugh that probably came out a little nastier than she deserved. He knew he would feel bad later, but her presence was suffocating suddenly, drowning out the entire room. “What the fuck, Kie? Don’t you have anything _better_ to do?”

His father had given him nothing but the gift of gab and a raging temper, and damn if he wasn’t going to use it.

She ignored him. “You didn’t answer my question. Do you know how stupid that was? What if he’d attacked you? What then?”

He didn’t understand it, her recent enhanced obsession with keeping everything he did in check. Whether she just felt bad that he was such a fucking mess, or if she felt like she had to overcompensate because she knew he had a thing for her and now she felt sorry for him.

She was just _always_ there, and he hated it. He loved it. It pissed him off.

“Why don’t you go fucking babysit Pope for a while? Shouldn’t you be worried about your boyfriend?” JJ found himself saying, and he was sick from the bitterness tainting his voice.

Kiara faltered, cocoa eyes flickering over his face in deep, deep confusion that almost drowned out her anger. He wanted to duck his head under the sea, if only to prevent her from seeing straight through to the fractured shards of his soul.

“Maybe if he was my boyfriend, I would,” she bit out. She reached for the door handle, like she wanted to march straight on out of there like she should have years ago. She hovered a minute before dropping her hand back to the side.

“Wait.” JJ froze, weeks of what he could only describe as him moping replaying though his mind like a movie of his life’s worst hits. “What?”

“Not that I care to tell you when you’re being an asshole,” Kiara said, her demeanor growing cool and measured and in control. “But Pope and I have never been dating. I thought you said you already knew.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” She scowled. “Not that that matters. That’s not what we’re talking about.”

JJ reigned in his tongue, fighting his instinct to argue. It wasn’t Kiara’s fault that his home life was shitty, and she was here and she for some reason cared about him. The last thing he needed was to drive her away too.

“I really needed some of my clothes,” he admitted. “And my dad wasn’t even home.”

Her mouth dropped open, and then she was shaking her head in what could only be described as disbelief. “Don’t you care what I—What _we_ would do if something happened to you?”

He looked at her then. Really looked at her. Took in her trembling hands and complexion robbed of a good portion of its color.

JJ didn’t like apologies. They left his mouth like nails scraping against his throat, something he forced out only when absolutely necessary. He preferred to make things up to people with actions when he knew he’d been shitty, but he couldn’t exactly take back going to his dad’s house, could he?

He lifted the red cap off his head, then shoved it back on. “Sorry,” he said. Well, more liked croaked, like some kind of fucking dying frog.

JJ didn’t even realize he had moved to a standing position until she’d shoved her arms under his to wrap around his torso. He heard her sniffle into his shirt, and he hesitantly brought his arms back around her, bunching his hands in her curls. She was warm in his embrace, and he really fucking hoped she couldn’t hear how loud his heart was thumping.

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” She sniffed again. “I can see why you needed fresh clothes.”

Kiara gave a tired smile as she pulled back from what was probably a bit too long of a hug to be normal. Just like that, the tense atmosphere was broken. He faked a glare at her, smelling his armpit.

“I’ll have you know I smell amazing.” He didn’t.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“So, are we watching a movie, or what?” he asked. Kiara still looked a little shaken, even though her posture was relaxing by the second.

She dropped onto the pullout, near the middle, so he would have to sit close to her when he joined her. “I don’t care what we watch. Just put something on.”

He obeyed, going with some lighthearted VHS that he knew Kiara loved, even though they made fun of her for it. He doubted he’d be paying much attention, anyway.

They were only fifteen minutes into the movie, their arms occasionally brushing, when he said, “So.” Despite himself, amusement leaked into his tone.

“Yes, JJ?” Kiara sounded resigned.

“You and Pope…”

She elbowed him, the sharp point of her bone colliding with his bicep. He drew away, laughing, and she said, “Are you being for real right now?”

“Hey, if things aren’t chill between you guys, I like, need to know. Don’t you think?”

“You’re so annoying.” If he didn’t know any better, he’d think she was blushing. This was going to be interesting. “So, we kissed, but I really don’t know why I did that. I still feel so bad. I guess it was just like an emotional high thing? But we’ve agreed to going back to just friends. It’s just a little…”

JJ raised his eyebrows. “Awkward as hell?”

Pope was awkward at the best of times. He couldn’t imagine him dealing with Kiara rejecting him particularly smoothly. JJ made a mental note to get him drunk one night soon. Maybe they could bond over getting turned down by the same girl, or look at dead bugs or some shit Pope was into.

“ _No._ Just a little,” Kiara corrected. He wasn’t totally convinced.

“Don’t tell me this is why you’ve been hanging out with me so much.” JJ was joking, but not really. His answer was confirmed when she looked down at the pillow she was holding, cringing.

“It kind of helps. But Pope and I are going to be fine.”

JJ deserved to be handed a trophy for biggest dick in the OBX, for certain. He recalled Kiara tagging along on surfing trips she normally wouldn’t, looking a little down. Kiara staying over later than normal, and him inching away from her on the pullout when her leg pressed too closely against his.

Him not once noticing that she was going through something, or Pope, for that matter.

“Yeah.” A million pathetic things lined his voice, a fact he tried not to acknowledge. “You will be.”

* * *

Now that JJ had come to terms with the full extent of his feelings for Kiara, he’d also realized that he really, really had to get over her already. A part of him whispered that that would never happen, but he _needed_ to. It was crossing the point of embarrassing and entering into a territory that bordered on downright pathetic.

The two of them had been closer than ever in the last few months. Sometimes, the way she looked at him or squeezed his hand made him realize how much hope he’d have if she were literally anyone else. He could not afford to let himself hope, because if he let himself hope, well, then he’d probably do something incredibly stupid, which was exactly why JJ needed to start hooking up with other girls again.

He’d hardly even realized when he’d stopped, but this was a slippery slope. JJ liked sex, and sex liked JJ, and if he was ever going to get over Kiara, he definitely couldn’t stop sleeping around in favor of being platonic life partners with her, or whatever the fuck it was he’d been halfway doing since they were thirteen. Even more so since John B and Sarah had made it back from the Bahamas.

“What is it?” the girl whispered, sighing into his ear.

She was hot, with her long, straight chocolate hair and legs that stretched on for miles. They’d slipped off into the woods together quite a while ago to fool around, and he was sure he had more than a few leaves stuck in his hair from where he had her pressed up against a tree.

But his brain kept circling back to the fact that she smelled florally, not at all like coconut, and that he didn’t know her name. Normally that would be the way he preferred it, but now? Now, he was _so_ fucked. And not in the way he wanted to be, either.

His hands fell from her hips, any eagerness he had managed to produce evaporating list mist. “Nothin’. But it’s getting kinda late. Should probably get back to my friends.”

“Your friends?” the no-named girl repeated, an eyebrow lilted. JJ couldn’t blame her. It had been pretty clear what both of them intended to do here when they scrambled off for privacy after flirting at the Boneyard all night with meaningful touches and not so subtle looks.

“Yep, that’s it,” JJ said, taking a step back. The girl was rigid with annoyance beside him, and he was just enough of an asshole that he couldn’t really be too bothered. He’d never see her again, and it wasn’t like she actually cared about him

The only difference was a year ago, that didn’t really bother him.

His halfhearted escapade partner threw him one last glare as she ambled off towards the parking lot, breaking off from JJ. He headed for the main portion of the Boneyard, which had mostly cleared out by now.

John B, who had a staggering Sarah leaned up against him and was struggling to keep her upright, blinked at him in surprise. “Hey, dude. Wasn’t expecting to see you again tonight.”

“Guess I wasn’t in the mood for fooling around like I thought.” JJ nodded towards Sarah, who was now giggling into the crook of John B’s throat. “What’s going on there?”

John B hefted Sarah’s arm back around his shoulder. He was too distracted by his girlfriend to really question JJ, which was good. “Crossfaded.”

“Good luck with that.” JJ tried to peer around casually. “Pope and Kie?”

The two of them seemed to have fallen back into their friendship ridiculously well. Pope had even managed to score a date with a Touron girl, and had come home blabbering as excitedly as Pope could blabber even though he had evidently failed spectacularly on said date.

“Pope’s waiting in the van. Kie’s on some mission to clean up the entire beach. I don’t know, but she’s been in a bad mood all night.”

Sometimes, JJ still managed to convince himself that Kiara was in love with John B. He and Sarah had been back for months and were still caught up in a legal battle to make sure all of them got their share of the gold and that Ward and Rafe stayed in prison. It was slow going, but the outlook for their win was bright.

But Kiara didn’t seem bitter towards Sarah anymore. She was thrilled to have her back, even. It definitely didn’t seem like the attitude a girl would have towards another girl dating the person she was in love with, but something had to be going on with her if she’d gotten all hotheaded out of nowhere. And it wasn’t like her blatant affection towards John B had ever changed.

JJ finally caught sight of a curly head of hair wandering the beach. He could see her outline in the moonlight, an alligator clamp and trash bag in hand. Because he was officially the pussy whipped sap that he had long accused John B of being (Even though he wasn’t actually getting any from the girl who had him whipped, which was just a whole new level of sad), he said, “You guys can go ahead. I’ll make sure Kie gets home.”

John B shot him a grateful look before hauling Sarah towards the van. “Awesome. See you later, JJ.”

JJ stared after Kiara for a few more moments before wandering towards her, hands in his pockets. “You know this’ll still be here in the morning, right?”

Kiara glanced up, doing a double take when she noticed it was him, only to resolutely turn her attention back to her work. She shoved a cup into the bag with a little more force than necessary. “Surprised you’re still here.”

“I just so happen to care a shit ton about Mother Earth, Kie.”

He could tell she hadn’t drank much tonight by the stiff set of her shoulders. At least he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t gotten the buzz he’d been looking for.

He waited for her to call him on his lie, to name all the things he did that weren’t environmentally friendly, but instead she said, “Oh yeah? Not usually as much as you care about getting laid.”

Well, this was a strange turn in the conversation. JJ peered down at her, head cocked. “Good point, but… huh?”

Kiara’s back was to him while she searched for more litter, and he got the distinct feeling that it was on purpose. She took a long time to answer, but when she did, her reply was clipped. “Nothing. I just thought you wouldn’t be coming back after you left with that girl, is all.”

She sounded pissed. Actually pissed. JJ stared at her, eyes narrowed in concentration as he tried to come to terms with this realization.

One side of his brain urged him on. He knew this attitude. He’d seen it on other girls he’d flirted with, could read their love language like a book. He’d sure as hell worn it himself, too. And if it wasn’t Kiara Carrera, he’d assume straight away that she was jealous of him and another girl. Fucking jealous, which implied on some obscure level that she wished to be the one having the romantic interaction with him.

But every other moment in his life had told him that that wasn’t possible. He decided to play it safe. “Nah. I’d rather be here.”

Shit, he didn’t really mean for it to come out like that. Kiara was already turning around, lips parted. “You’d rather be here… Helping me pick up trash?” Her eyes searched his, and JJ scratched his nose, trying desperately to quell the hope bubbling in his chest.

“Maybe to watch you pick up trash. You look great from behind.” It was weak even to his own ears. Normally, Kiara would playfully roll her eyes or maybe even drop a flirty comment back, but since this was pissed Kiara, her lips formed a thin line.

She took a purposeful step towards him, and then another. His pulse skyrocketed, anticipating something he knew would never come.

Her hand reached up towards his hair, and he practically melted into her touch as she combed through his stands. How was it that the smallest things she did felt so fucking good? She pulled back with a broken brown leaf held between two fingers, glaring at it like it was personally offensive. “You got a little something.”

A thread in JJ snapped. If she was really mad because of why he thought she was mad, then he had a lot of questions and a lot of reasons to be pissed off himself. He’d spent months—No, years—pining after her like some moron, and now for some reason she was choosing to make his nightly activities less enjoyable for him as well.

He already couldn’t even enjoy them to begin with because of her!

“So, are you going to tell me what I did to piss you off, or am I supposed to guess?” he retorted, treading after her as she continued down the beach.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

She laughed, and he couldn’t really figure out what was so funny. “That’s exactly it.”

“Uh, pardon me for saying this, but I’m really fucking lost right now.”

Kiara dropped her clamp and trash bag, and the sound echoed even over the rolling waves in the background. JJ felt like he was reaching the climax of a movie he’d slept through half of. “JJ,” she said. “Enough bullshit.

“Gonna still need a little clarification on that.” There was a sinking feeling in JJ’s stomach. The air was buzzing between them, and this moment was definitely building up to something, but he didn’t know whether it would make or break him.

Kiara paused for a moment, and he took in her features. It may have been the most nervous he’d ever seen her. He let his fingers ghost over her arm, hoping to bring her some sort of reassurance, and she shivered. He could see her eyes steel themselves.

“Do you like me, or not?” she demanded. Her lip may have trembled, but she didn’t offer to back down.

JJ was beginning to feel very lightheaded. He wondered briefly what Kiara would do if he told her he needed to sit down. “Do I—Do I _what_?”

Kiara adjusted her stance, practically oozing anxiety. “I just—It’s okay if you don’t. But sometimes I really think you do, and then tonight you go off to hook up with some other girl again. I haven’t seen you do that in a while, and I just…”

JJ couldn’t seem to do anything but stare at her. Any time this conversation had played out in his head, it had been because he had done something stupid, like get wasted and try to kiss her again, or confessed his feelings when she brought home a new boyfriend.

He never expected her to be the one that got the ball rolling. At least, he was pretty sure it was her. He was still relatively lost.Kiara’s face was falling with his prolonged silence, and he didn’t know what to do. “Not that it’s my place to tell you what to do,” she hurried to say. “I just—Do you, or not?”

If this was any other girl, JJ probably would’ve kissed her. She was looking at him a way she’d never looked at him before and she was so beautiful under the stars and she was giving him all the signs he’d ever hoped for, but he had to be sure.

His hand twitched at his side, itching to pull her towards him. He didn’t want to say a word, but she was asking him, straight up, and he had a feeling she’d see right through him if he lied to her outright. “Um. I thought that it was like, kind of obvious. Remember the no JJ on Kie macking rule you had to make?”

“The _what_?”

“Come on, Kie. We both know that’s what no Pogue on Pogue macking meant.”

And she did. She had to. Whether or not anything had come of it, JJ didn’t forget that she had in fact macked both John B and Pope, and she definitely hadn’t let it get that far with him. She’d nipped it in the bud straight away, before anything could even happen.

Kiara crossed her arms, rocking back on her heels. She actually looked annoyed. “I’m sorry. Since when?”

JJ couldn’t believe she was making him spell it out for her. “Uh, last time I checked, since I tried to kiss you and you turned me down.” Seeing her expression, he added, “It’s okay. It’s fine. I get it.”

Kiara shook her head at him. The lines of her face were soft, even when affronted. She breathed in, deeply, and he knew that whatever she was preparing to say was going to be long.

“JJ, I turned you down because you were drunk off your ass and you hooked up with a different girl every night. You never made a move when you were sober.”

JJ really wished he knew what that meant. He wished even more that he understood how she could think he’d never made a pass at her or made his interest plain as day. The echo of a laugh slipped through his lips.

“Trust me, I definitely knew what I was doing,” he admitted.

Kiara’s mouth quirked. He couldn’t tell if she was bemused or just trying to soak in what he was telling her, because if she didn’t get it now, then maybe he wasn’t the dumbest one in the group, after all.

“Sometimes I thought you didn’t even remember it. You always acted so normal,” Kiara inched towards him, and he fought the urge to step back. Fought an even stronger urge to yank her towards him. She hesitated. “I just couldn’t be a hook up. You know?”

A hook up. His first thought was that he couldn’t believe she’d ever get that impression, but as he raced through the memories of him grinding on girls at the Boneyard, of Kiara helping him edge them out of the Chateau in the mornings, because he’d never consider bringing them to his own house… He guessed he might see how she could get that impression.

“Kiara, you’d never be a hook up.” He spoke with his hands, because that always helped get one’s point across. Obviously. “I mean, I’d love to hook up, but like, preferably more than once.”

She grinned, in that amused but still fondly annoyed kind of way she did, but it seemed somehow brighter this time. She crept closer to him still, and he blurted, “What about John B and Pope?”

JJ had to keep himself from wincing. He knew Kiara wouldn’t like him bringing them up, would probably even say it was none of his business. But if any of this was going where he was finally allowing himself to hope it was, then well… He had to know.

Kiara stopped, brow furrowing. Like she didn’t understand the need to ask about them at all. “Them I actually turned down. They’re like my brothers.”

“Brothers? You’re sure? And I’m not?”

She huffed. “JJ.”

Kiara was all up in his space now, smelling of coconut and his wildest dreams. He swallowed, allowing himself to trace his fingers up her arm. He watched in fascination as a little trail of goose bumps erupted under his touch.

JJ flicked his gaze back to her face. “So, like, if I kissed you right now—“

“Oh my God,” she growled, and then both of her hands were cupping his jaw, pulling him down to meet her.

Kiara’s lips were smooth as butter against his, and he got a vague hint of the mango chapstick he often found lying between the couch cushions at the Chateau. Despite the entire conversation they’d just had, it still took him a moment to collect himself and realize _holy shit this is actually happening._

One, two, three seconds, and then JJ was kissing her back. She kissed him furiously at first, mouth open and hot and heavy as one of her hands curled around the back of his neck.

It was like she couldn’t get enough, like they were on some time limit he hadn’t been informed of, but then she breathed a sigh against his mouth. She moved more slowly, savoring, and JJ allowed his grip on her hips to nudge her closer. His fingers skimmed a bare strip of flesh, and he pressed his mouth to her harder.

She tugged at his hair, causing him to groan against her mouth. She was so fucking hot, and kissing her was somehow even better than he’d ever imagined it to be. And trust him, he’d imagined it his fair share.

Kiara pulled back, panting. She pressed one last, butterfly-like kiss against his mouth before peeking up at him. She smiled, closed-lipped and actually looking like she was really fucking happy.

JJ’s heart soared. He didn’t know how long he’d wished she would look at him like that.

“So that’s a yes?” She managed to sound coy even when she was out of breath.

JJ smacked a kiss against her forehead, and she let out a little hum of satisfaction. He couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Definitely yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love comments and interacting with fellow jiara fans on tumblr (alphinias)!


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